


Sherlolly 6: A Game

by George_Sand



Series: George_Sand Sherlolly Series 1 [6]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Clothed Sex, F/M, Hands, I Love You, Intimate kissing, Mature but always sweet and gentle, Slow Burn, Virgin Sherlock, no hands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-24
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-09-19 17:21:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9452096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/George_Sand/pseuds/George_Sand
Summary: Sherlock proposes an intimate experiment.Part 6 of George_Sand Sherlolly Series 1.  Please read the series in order, they build on each other.Sherlock twines his fingers into Molly’s and brings them up to examine them.  “Our hands have been an integral part of our physical intimacy, as they should be.  But I’d like to conduct an experiment with you.”Molly, thoroughly confused, asks, “What’s that?”Sherlock takes a step back, fulling extending both their arms, and dramatically drops her hand from chest height.  “No hands.”“What?!”Sherlock continues, “I’d like to kiss you.  I’d like you to kiss me.  But no hands.  I’ve been considering different aspects of our intimacy, and I’ve wondered if the use of our hands is a distraction or an enhancement.”Molly can’t help but burst into laughter.  “Only Sherlock Holmes would think about this!”





	

_Coffee (literal or otherwise)?  – SH_

_Coffee. Come help me get the mugs. ;)  – MH_

          Sherlock detests emoticons, except when Molly uses them.  In Molly’s texts, he sees their utility; a wink or similar sign means that “coffee” will be more than “coffee”. 

          Approximately two seconds after Molly presses send, she hears a chirp and Sherlock walks purposefully into her kitchen.  He gives her a blazing stare, never breaking eye contact as he drops keys on the table and coat on the floor.  Eyes intense, he takes her head in his hands and gives her a short but passionate kiss.  Surprised and acting by instinct, her hand comes up to his neck, but he has already let go of her lips and is staring again into her eyes.

          “Really, Molly, you should keep your keys more secure.  It’s absurdly easy for anyone to take them from your bag at Bart’s.”

          Disoriented, Molly says, “Oh.  Oh, right,” then, “That was even better than the first one, you’re not covered in glass this time,” and, recovering, says, “and you, Sherlock, are not ‘anyone.’  I’m surprised it took you this long.”

          Disappointed that Molly anticipated and allowed him to copy her keys, but glad that she wanted him to do so, Sherlock picks up his copies and coat and hangs them up.

          Whirling back to Molly he catches her hand and smiles wickedly, “I propose a game.”

          “A game?”  Although Sherlock didn’t seem the type to play games, she did remember warnings from John to never consent to a game of Cluedo with Sherlock.  Or cards.  Or chess.  Or Operation.  She had thought the last one was a joke, but John’s voice had been dire.

          Seeming to leave the subject, Sherlock twines his fingers into Molly’s and brings them up to examine them.  “Our hands have been an integral part of our physical intimacy, as they should be.  But I’d like to conduct an experiment with you.”

          Molly, thoroughly confused, asks, “What’s that?”

          Sherlock takes a step back, fulling extending both their arms, and dramatically drops her hand from chest height.  “No hands.”

          “What?!”

          Sherlock continues, “I’d like to kiss you.  I’d like you to kiss me.  But no hands.  I’ve been considering different aspects of our intimacy, and I’ve wondered if the use of our hands is a distraction or an enhancement.”

          Molly can’t help but burst into laughter.  “Only Sherlock Holmes would think about this!”

          Sherlock raises an eyebrow and dramatically clasps his hands behind his back

          Molly has never seen Sherlock so playful, and she likes it.  She smirks, as if daring Sherlock to succeed, and shoves her hands in her jean pockets.  She’ll take this challenge.

          Sherlock walks over to the couch, hands still clasped, and sits on the arm to lessen the height difference between himself and Molly.  Molly steps between his legs and unthinkingly puts her hands on his thighs. 

          Sherlock grabs her hands, moves them behind her back and whispers conspiratorially, “The game is on!”

          Without her arms to draw Sherlock in, Molly leans forward to kiss him.  Sherlock remains still as she lightly kisses his mouth, then the tip of nose, then between his eyebrows.  Sherlock’s lips are naturally near her neck, so he responds by kissing her jaw.  Each ready for the others mouth, they try to move their faces to align their lips, but miss.  Without the ability to hold and guide each other, Molly’s mouth ends up on Sherlock’s cheek, and Sherlock finds himself delicately licking the side of Molly’s nose.  They chuckle and smile, then succeed in a proper kiss. 

          After a few moments, Sherlock feels Molly’s hands on his chest and he ends the kiss.  She looks up to see him giving her a mockingly remonstrative look.  She starts, “Well, as long as I’m touching you…” grabs a fistful of his shirt, and leads him to her bedroom.  She pushes Sherlock onto her bed before letting go, then straddles him.  Chest to chest, lips just brushing his ear, she whispers, “The game, Sherlock, is on!”

          As she knows he likes, Molly works on Sherlock’s ear, her hands resolutely planted on her own knees.  Sherlock whimpers and smiles, his hands in fists pushing into the bed.  He tries to move his face to catch Molly’s mouth, but ends up kissing her chin.  He smiles and Molly’s eyes flash. She says, “I want to push you over but I can’t, so fall over please.”

          Sherlock’s smile turns into a pleased laugh.  He lays down on the bed and Molly straddles him.  Thrilled to feel a pulse against her groin, she exclaims, “Well, that was quick!”

          Molly and Sherlock settle their hips together, smiling delightedly at each other.  Molly leans forward and Sherlock reaches up to move her hair.  Thinking the same thing, Molly straightens up and reaches back to double-loop her ponytail.  Now her hair won’t swing down in their way.

          They settle together again.  Sherlock feels his own involuntary movement and hears Molly’s familiar breath-catch and excited hum.  He wonders how is it possible that she is so warm for him, and idly considers female anatomy as he pulses again.  Molly makes gentle fists, puts them on either side of Sherlock’s head, and uses them to hold her body weight as they kiss. As the kiss deepens, her hands uncurl until her palms, then her forearms, rest on the bed and her chest touches Sherlock’s.  They re-settle their hips as she grows impossibly warmer and Sherlock shudders.  She gently kisses his cheekbones.  Her mouth makes its way down to Sherlock’s neck and, as before, she gently kisses, sucks, and licks his trachea until she feels his low moan.

          Sherlock breathes “Molly!” and grabs her hips to roll her under him.  In their new position, Molly looks at him with a slightly scolding, mostly triumphant expression.  Sherlock tries to sound stern as he says, “That doesn’t count.”

          Molly is on her back, knees bent, feet flat on the bed, Sherlock re-settling his hips into hers.  She mumbles a happy “oh” as they align, but Sherlock pulls back and ducks to put the crown of his head on Molly’s soft stomach.  He gently drags his head up over her shirt and she shivers as his face moves very slowly up between her breasts.  When he reaches her neck his tongue finds and plays the tendons there, and she turns her head to the side invitingly. 

          After a few moments, Sherlock moves down to nuzzle between her breasts again.  He laments, “Why do you always wear such high-necked jumpers?”  but halfway through the question, she has already peeled it off and thrown it on the floor.  Today’s tee-shirt is baby blue with a little pocket on the left breast. 

          Sherlock feigns concern and says “Molly, I think there’s something on your shirt.  May I?”

          Molly replies seriously, “Yes please, we can’t…have…” Sherlock is delighted to hear her voice give out as, eyes locked, he slowly licks the pocket.  He laments the thickness of her bra as she closes her eyes and arches her back, pushing her breast against Sherlock’s cheek.  Listening to Molly’s low moans, he gently massages her breast with his forehead and cheeks, pressing his eye socket to where he knows her nipple must be.  She eventually groans, “…the other…” and he only too willingly gives the right breast a turn.  As he works, Molly is overcome and gives up on the game.  As she grabs his thick hair, Sherlock stops, and with a final lick he pulls away and looks at her eyes. 

          Molly gasps, “Game over, Love,” and he smiles in playful obedience, “Yes, Love”.

          He finds that he has moved up to rest his forehead on hers and that they have started rocking their hips in unison.  Sherlock stops and raises his hips from her body and sees hunger and questioning in Molly’s eyes.  Sherlock feels sheepish and admits, “I almost came.”

          Molly smiles and extricates herself from under Sherlock.  She is so warm that she glances down and cannot believe that her jeans are dry.  Sitting facing each other, each watches the other breathe for several moments.  When he seems calm, Molly gives Sherlock a gentle kiss on the cheek. Sherlock in turn kisses the back of Molly’s hand, then turns it over to strum her tendons.  Molly exhales contentedly.  She loves the strumming, it’s so unique, so Sherlock. 

          Sherlock looks at Molly and says simply, “I love you.”

          She responds, "And I love you."

          The second time saying and hearing the words is even better than the first.  Smiling, Molly drops onto her side and Sherlock curls around her.  They lay, quietly relaxing for a while, and Molly notices that Sherlock’s erection seems to be gone. 

          Eyes wandering to Molly’s nightstand, Sherlock observes, “I see you haven’t moved my skull. Did you converse at all?”

          “Only about you,” she says.

**Author's Note:**

> This work has not been beta-ed, please send constructive criticism!


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